Moreover, there was confirmation in Nombe’s message which could not well have been invented, that spoke of their being well in the charge of a “Great One,” a term by which the Zulus designate God, with all their troubles finished.  The reason and manner of their end were left unrevealed.  Zikali might have murdered them for his own purposes, or the Zulus might have killed them in obedience to the king’s order that no white people in the land were to be allowed to live.  Or perhaps the Basutos from Sekukuni’s country, with whom the Zulus had some understanding, had followed and done them to death; indeed the strangling sounded more Basuto than Zulu—­if they were really strangled.

Almost overcome though I was, I bethought me of the package and opened it, only to find another apparent proof of their end, for it contained Heda’s jewels as I had found them in the bag in the safe; also a spare gold watch belonging to Anscombe with his coat-of-arms engraved upon it.  That which he wore was of silver and no doubt was buried with him, since for superstitious reasons the natives would not have touched anything on his person after death.  This seemed to me to settle the matter, presumptively at any rate, since to show that robbery was not the cause of their murder, their most valuable possessions which were not upon their persons had been sent to me, their friend.

So this was the end of all my efforts to secure the safety and well-being of that most unlucky pair.  I wept when I thought of it there in the darkness of the hut, for the candle had burned out, and going on to my knees, put up an earnest prayer for the welfare of their souls; also that I might be forgiven my folly in leading them into such danger.  And yet I did it for the best, trying to judge wisely in the light of such experience of the world as I possessed.

Now alas! when I am old I have come to the conclusion that those things which one tries to do for the best one generally does wrong, because nearly always there is some tricky fate at hand to mar them, which in this instance was named Zikali.  The fact is, I suppose, that man who thinks himself a free agent, can scarcely be thus called, at any rate so far as immediate results are concerned.  But that is a dangerous doctrine about which I will say no more, for I daresay that he is engaged in weaving a great life-pattern of which he only sees the tiniest piece.

One thing comforted me a little.  If these two were dead I could now leave Zululand without qualms.  Of course I was obliged to leave in any case, or die, but somehow that fact would not have eased my conscience.  Indeed I think that had I believed they still lived, in this way or in that I should have tried not to leave, because I should have thought it for the best to stay to help them, whereby in all human probability I should have brought about my own death without helping them at all.  Well, it had fallen out otherwise and there was an end.  Now I could only hope that they had gone to some place where there are no more troubles, even if, at the worst, it were a place of rest too deep for dreams.